


The Dependency Issue

by MeganWrites



Series: Rod of Asclepius [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganWrites/pseuds/MeganWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When it comes to Mickey, that’s just the way it is. Ian feels like an awkward, clingy kid with a crush. Blushing and bumbling around, vying for Mickey’s attention and inevitably ending up embarrassing himself."</p><p>Ian is a nervous medical intern, Mickey is a grumpy nurse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dependency Issue

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I know very little about the Intern/Doctor/Medical experience down in the USA therefore whatever is here comes from tv or what I've read on the internet. If there are any glaring errors, I apologize profusely. My bad.
> 
> Decided to make this into a series, there should be about eight fics but that is subject to change should I get inspiration.

“Gallagher! Quit sipping on shitty coffee and get your ass in gear, you’ve got a patient!”

Ian grins and looks up from the newspaper he had been reading, waiting to see Mickey barreling around the corner and into the staff lounge. One thing Ian’s learned about Mickey is that you’ll always hear him before you see him (unless he really doesn’t want you to, but he’s usually really fucking pissed by then).

Mickey stops in the doorway, “seriously, Gallagher, get the fuck up and let’s move.” He rolls his eyes and grumbles to himself, “what is even the fuckin' point in telling you to do shit?”

Ian shrugs and crosses his arms. “You could always try asking me instead.”

Mickey snorts, shaking his head as he speaks. “Not fuckin' likely. Come on, let’s move.” He turns without waiting for Ian to stand up, as if he knows that Ian will follow without question.

Which he will, undoubtedly.

That’s how it works these days. Mickey calls and Ian bends over backwards to chase after him, eagerly listening to every bit of advice and each order. When it comes to Mickey, that’s just the way it is. Ian feels like an awkward, clingy kid with a crush. Blushing and bumbling around, vying for Mickey’s attention and inevitably ending up embarrassing himself.

Luckily, Mickey doesn’t seem to mind, or if he does he never mentions it. He instead makes a habit out of checking up on Ian’s patients periodically, and hovering around when he knows that Ian has to do something he isn’t quite comfortable with yet (like placing IV’s or making a risky call when it comes to medication). It’s nice, kind of like Mickey is a walking, talking, and infinitely grouchy security blanket. To Ian, it’s at least a thousand times better than any actual blanket could be, especially considering blankets don’t have stunning blue eyes that Ian could just fucking drown in.

Mickey’s standing in a shared room next to one of the beds with his arms crossed and a smug smile, Ian can tell right away that whoever this patient is has done something amusing that Mickey will surely be laughing to Ian about later. Ian smiles politely as he walks in, noticing is a young man lying on the bed.

“Hello, Mr. …” Ian trails off as he grabs the chart from the end of the bed and reads the name quickly, “Milkovich.” He blinks and reads over the name again, looks up at the patient then to Mickey. “Mr. Milkovich…” He repeats slowly, still switching his gaze between the two men. He supposes they look somewhat alike, both having a stockier build and blue eyes, but there are so many differences it’s hard to tell if they’re actually related or not. “Uh,” Ian opens and closes his mouth a few times, furrowing his brow and trying to decide how to continue from this point. Should he just assume they aren’t related? But what if they are and Mickey thinks he’s being an asshole? Or what if he assumes they are related and they aren’t? Mickey would probably think he was an asshole then too.

Milkovich can’t be _that_ common of a name though.

Mickey clears his throat loudly, his eyebrows are raised nearly to his hairline in a way that makes Ian think that Mickey is probably already thinking he’s an asshole.

“So, are you two related?” Ian finally asks, giving up on any hope that he can get out of this situation without being hopelessly awkward.

“Yeah, Nurse Nancy here is my little brother,” the patient answers with a big grin.

Ian almost laughs but notices a sharp glare from Mickey and quickly closes his mouth. For someone who doles out ridiculous nicknames like it’s his God given right he certainly doesn’t have a great sense of humor for receiving one.

“So, Mr. Milkovich, or do you prefer Viggo?”

“Just call me Iggy,” the patient answer waving his hand, “fuckin' parents gave us all these bullshit uppity names; none of us fuckin' use them.”

Ian notes that vulgarity seems to be a family trait.

“Sounds good Iggy,” Ian answers and looks back down at his chart. “So, it says here you got a cut on your arm?”

“Makes it sound like a paper cut,” Iggy growls and lifts up the bandaging on his right arm (it’s then that Ian notices Iggy has the same ‘FUCK U-UP’ knuckle tattoos as Mickey, something that must also be a family trait). Ian takes a step closer, examining the wound. It’s not the worst that Ian’s seen while working in the hospital but it’s definitely not good. Probably deep enough that he needs some stitches and depending the circumstances he’ll likely need some shots.

“How’d you get this?” Ian asks, even though he’s not sure a straight answer would come out of Iggy.

Iggy shrugs and puts the bandage back down, “ran into some guys, shit happens.”

Ian nods and scribbles down on the chart that Iggy will be needing his blood tested – just in case. He looks up at Iggy and shuts the chart, “alright, Iggy, so it looks like you’ll just be needing some stitches and a couple shots”-

“Aye, Gallagher, can I talk to you for a second?” Mickey interrupts, stepping forward from where he’s been standing stoically since Ian walked into the room.

Ian frowns and nods, looking back at Iggy quickly and saying, “We’ll be right back in.”

Mickey walks out ahead of Ian and leads him to a nearby empty on call room. The door shuts behind Ian and he watches as Mickey wrings his hands tightly together and clicks his tongue. He pauses and turns to look at Ian, raising a hand and breathing deeply.

“So, I can do all this shit for Iggy, Gallagher, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Ian frowns and leans against the wall, “Alright, so why did you bring me in there?”

“Need someone to sign off on it.”

“Anyone could sign off on this Mickey,” Ian answers

Mickey looks down, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and scratching the back of his neck. He curses under his breath and looks up, “He doesn’t have insurance, and he doesn’t have any money.”

Ian gets it, honestly he does. He and Mickey both grew up on the Southside, barely surviving and scraping by on barely anything. Health insurance just isn’t a priority when you need to pay for food and heating. Most of Ian’s family had gotten out of the Southside by now, Fiona finally getting a steady job and most of his siblings heading off to college (in the beginning there had been a little financial boosting from Lip and his long-time girlfriend Amanda – they really lucked into that one). It was weird to think about now, how much they had struggled before and now with just a little bit of help they were… not flourishing but definitely not struggling. It’s clear that Mickey’s family hadn’t lucked out quite as much.

“Look,” Mickey begins, clearly nervous by Ian’s prolonged silence, “I know that it’s risky especially in your first year here but he’s fuckin' family, and you know they aren’t going to give him shots in the free clinics or test his blood, and that can fuckin' kill you if there’s something. I just – fuck, I’m trusting you here, Gallagher.” He lets out a long exasperated breath and drops onto a nearby bed, looking down at his knees as he speaks softer, “if you can, if you will, just help me out.”

Ian gets the sense this isn’t something Mickey does often. He moves away from the wall and sits down next to Mickey, smiling as Mickey looks up at him nervously.

“Of course I’ll help you,” Ian answers nudging Mickey’s knee with his own. “You’ve had my back these past couple months, I’ve got yours. No explanation needed, no questions asked.”

Mickey gazes softens, he looks at least ten years younger and so much more innocent, like the idea that someone might want to be there for him is completely foreign to anything he’s ever known. Ian feels the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Mickey and shield him from any pain the world may have caused him.

Mickey nods and stands up, breaking the oddly intimate moment and pointing to the door. “So we should go help him out now?”

“Yep, definitely. Just you’ll have to walk me through this whole scamming the hospital thing.” Ian responds with a light laugh.

Mickey smirks and opens the door, “you got it, Gallagher.”

Later that night, once their shifts come to an end, Mickey invites Ian out for a beer. He seems lighter and happier with a big, genuine smile that Ian wishes would never go away. Ian says yes before Mickey can finish asking, happily following him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :)](http://meganwwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
